


No Regrets

by F00T



Category: Professional Wrestling, 新日本プロレス | New Japan Pro-Wrestling
Genre: Best of the Super Jrs 2018, Crack Relationships, Dom/sub, Foot Fetish, Humiliation, I'm Not Ashamed, M/M, This Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things, Uncle Foot Pervert Nobu, why
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-21
Updated: 2019-01-21
Packaged: 2019-10-13 23:49:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,687
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17497640
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/F00T/pseuds/F00T
Summary: Kanemaru drunkenly gets Bushi to agree to sex over their Best of the Super Jrs match and somehow it doesn't get weird until feet get involved.Yes, I'm serious.





	No Regrets

**Author's Note:**

> This goes out to everyone on twitter who told me no and Jinx who told me yes.

Kanemaru made a point of not regretting any choices he made while drinking. He remembered only a third of those choices, half if he was being generous, the morning after. Dwelling on them wasn’t in his nature.

Besides, he always had company when he drank and, more often than not, they were the ones who goaded him into his worst, alcohol-fueled decisions. If anyone was complicit, he reasoned, it was the rest of Suzuki-gun for always putting him up to shit that he usually wouldn’t remember anyway. No point in worrying about his actions. Just go along with everything and fuck the consequences. 

So when El Desperado lost his match to Chris Sabin that night and hit him up for a sip of whiskey before they had even left the locker room, Kanemaru agreed. And when, as the sips turned into shots, his partner suggested they find a proper dive so he could properly drink away the shame of his loss, he agreed to that as well. If the road to the bar just happened to pass his competitors lingering backstage after the show, so be it. They probably deserved any shit he could dish out any way. No regrets. 

Definitely no regrets when he spotted Bushi absentmindedly scrolling through his phone that night. Kanemaru threw back a mouthful of whiskey. That fancy little shit has it coming, he thought.

“Say...isn’t your next match with him?” Desperado said, a hair too loudly, upon noticing the rival luchador.

“...yeah. My last match.”

“You know you gotta fuck with him a bit, right?” Kanemaru didn’t need to see the wicked grin crossing El Desperado’s face beneath his mask. He could hear it in his voice. He responded with a chuckle.

“I’m serious! You gotta get in his head. Throw him off his game. I already beat his shitty little brother in my block and now it’s your turn. Los ingobernables? Fuck that. Show him that the boss will be the one governing them in the end. And you’ll be the one to teach Bushi that personally. Get over there! Fuck. With. Him.”

Kanemaru took a swig from the whiskey bottle and promptly choked on it as his teammate shoved him down the hallway towards Bushi. He stumbled up to his soon-to-be opponent, trying in vain to look intimidating.

“Hey,” he said with a smirk, letting his fist rest high on the wall next to Bushi’s head.

Bushi didn’t look up from his phone. “You know I can hear you two scheming, right?” 

“Spying on us, eh,” Kanemaru slurred as he poked Bushi lightly on the side of his head. “You’re a cheating little shit but even that seems beneath you.”

“It’s not spying-” he paused to swat Kanemaru’s hand away from his face, “it is not spying if you two drunk assholes are yelling in the halls for everyone to hear.”

“I’m not drunk,” Kanemaru said as he took another sip from the bottle. “You better apologize for that.”

“Fuck you.”

“Maybe I should.”

Bushi slid his cell phone into his pocket and shot Kanemaru a glare that pierced directly into his brain. “You don’t have it in you to fuck me.”

“If I beat you tomorrow night, you should let me try.”

“You won’t though.”

“I won’t what? Show you a good time?” he took another swig and offered the bottle to Bushi.

Bushi glanced at the whiskey bottle, then back at Kanemaru. “No. Fuck...no,” he sighed and snatched the bottle, taking a slow gulp. “You won’t show me any time, you won’t beat me, you won’t do anything but drive me to drink from how much of an ass you’re being right now. And you should probably take that asshole partner of yours and get out of here before Suzuki catches you two making fools of yourselves.”

Kanemaru leaned into Bushi and growled close to his ear, “so it’s a deal then?”

“Will you leave if I say yes? Because there’s no way this will end up in your favor.”

“We’ll see if fortune favors me tomorrow night.”

“We’ll see how badly I beat you, you mean,” Bushi said as he shoved Kanemaru away and slunk off down the hall.

Kanemaru held the whiskey bottle out to El Desperado as he approached. He took a swig and leaned against the wall next to Kanemaru and slowly slid down until he was crouching on the floor.

Kanemaru slowly sat down next to him. “Pretty sure I nailed that,” he said.

“You nailed something, that’s for sure.”

“I WILL be nailing something.” He snatched the whiskey bottle back from his partner and took a long sip. “Someone.”

“Fuck, Nobu. You made it fucking weird. Now we really need to get something stronger than this piss you insist is liquor. I need to forget you making a sex pact over your next match.”

“It’s not gonna be weird when I beat him.”

“It’s gonna be extra weird if you beat him and he actually lets you fuck him! Which he won’t. Fuck. Let’s get out of here and forget all of that.”

\-----

Kanemaru didn’t forget all of that. 

And, despite his best efforts, Bushi hadn’t forgotten either if his exasperated sigh when Kanemaru found him after their match was any indication. 

“If you’re going to bring up that promise, you can fuck right off. You cheated for that win and you know it,” Bushi hissed at him.

“It worked though.”

“Barely.”

Kanemaru slapped his hand on Bushi’s shoulder, grasping him firmly. “And you still admit it’s a promise though. We doing this or what?”

“Do you have any subtlety?” Bushi said has he swatted his hand away. “Fine. Yes. Make it quick. I can at least be the honorable man in this situation.”

“Honorable, fuck. You’re still a little shit.”

“And you’re a drunk asshole. There’s a utility closet past the locker rooms that won’t be disturbed. Let’s get this over with.”

When they reached the closet, Bushi quickly settled himself on top of a plastic tub. Kanemaru paused a few feet away from where he was sitting. For the first time since these events had been set in motion, he realized that he had no idea what he was doing.

“I don’t have all night,” Bushi said, refusing to make eye contact.

“Oh. Umm...fuck,” he grumbled as he knelt on the floor next to the tub Bushi was sitting on and began unlacing his right boot. He held Bushi’s heel steady with his spare hand as he pulled the laces free, letting his thumb press into material to feel the shape of his ankle beneath it. As he slid his thumb down the side of the boot, feeling how his leg curved slightly as it met his foot, Kanemaru felt his breathing quicken. He leaned in closer as he started to slide the boot off of Bushi’s foot, trying to catch his first whiff of his sweat mixing with leather.

“What the hell are you doing?”

Kanemaru paused, not looking up. He didn’t need to. He could feel Bushi glaring down at him.

“If you just wanted to brag about fucking me after stealing that win, you wouldn’t have to put in this much effort into getting me out of my gear. Do you even know how to do this?”

“Shut up, I know what I want,” Kanemaru growled as he gripped harder on Bushi’s foot. “I know what I’m doing.”

“All you’re doing is wasting my time,” Bushi said as he pressed his free foot into the side of Kanemaru’s face. 

Kanemaru was silent for a second before letting out a small gasp. Bushi smirked.

“I knew you were a fucking pervert. You entire stable is. Is this how you’re trying to get off? You sick fuck,” Bushi said as he slowly slid the sole of his boot down Kanemaru’s cheek.

“It’s...I know what I like. You agreed to it if I won our match.”

“I didn’t agree to you being nasty with my feet. Because that’s what you are. A nasty pervert.” With each syllable, Bushi tapped his foot against his head. He felt Kanemaru tremble slightly every time his foot hit his face. A smirk grew across Bushi’s lips.

“Besides,” he continued, “do you even know how much I pay people to take care of these feet? I have standards, and filth like you doesn’t even come close to meeting them. What makes you think you deserve to touch them? You don’t even deserve to look at them, you piece of shit.”

“I beat you though.”

Bushi slipped his foot beneath Kanemaru’s face, tilting his chin upward with the toe of his boot. “And you really want to collect on that reward you set up for yourself, huh? Then you’ll be following my rules.”

Kanemaru didn’t respond. He knew when he was being fucked with. But he also knew that he could feel Bushi’s toes flex through the thin leather of his boots and the way they struck lightly against his jaw made his heart pound like it was going to rip his entire chest open.

“Here is the hotel I’m staying in. Here’s the room number. Don’t come before 11pm. And bring me liquor. The best you can afford, none of that piss you had last night. I’ll need it after dealing with you.” 

“Can I make a request?” Kanemaru muttered. Bushi narrowed his eyes at him in response and dragged the sole of his boot slowly down Kanemaru’s neck and onto his chest.

“Don’t take- ah, don’t take your shoes off until I get there.”

“...what.”

“It preserves the smell.”

Bushi slid off the tub and made his way to leave the utility closet. “You...really are a fucking pervert, you know that?”

“And yet you’re still going along with it.”

“You humiliated me tonight. Why wouldn’t I jump all over a chance to humiliate you in return? You just happened to get turned on by it.”

Kanemaru smirked. “Good to know the pleasure is mutual.”

“Fuck you. And bring me a second bottle of whiskey when you come over.”


End file.
